’ ‘I do not care any more about the portrait,’ Melusine said, opening the door to the attic corridor that gave off onto the row of little rooms that served as private cells for the senior nuns. He never retires to rest till daybreak—if at all. There was a huge desk of heavily carved ebony at one end, and at the centre, a couple of straight-backed chairs stood before a great fireplace at the outer wall, flanked by two bookshelves with casement windows above. It was his particular hobby, and the leisure he had to apply to it had given him a remarkable appraising eye. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. And there's your liver. " With this, he struck the door a heavy blow.
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